Assembling the First War Order of the Phoenix, Part 7: The Meeting
by YouHaveNoIdeaWhatImCapableOf
Summary: Fred is given some thoughts to ponder.


**Round: Finals**

**School: Beauxbatons**

**Year: 6**

**Word Count: 1697**

**Order in School: My fic is the last one in the series, with Year 5 Arasulgil having the penultimate story.**

**Main Prompt: Fred Weasley**

**Bonus Prompts: First Wizarding War, "There are two kinds of people in this world; people who do evil stuff, and people who see evil stuff being done and don't do anything to try and stop it."**

Fred Weasley sat in his new bedroom at Grimmauld Place, contemplating everything that had happened over the past several weeks. Voldemort had returned at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. It was an event caused a panic among the Hogwarts students, who were the first to hear the news and had been told stories about the horrors of the first war. The Ministry was quick to discredit the story, preferring peace and ignorance, so it was up to Dumbledore and his supporters to fight the good fight.

His mother had refused to allow him and his twin brother, George, to join the Order of the Phoenix, the group that would fight You-Know-Who. The woman was overprotective, overbearing… and he knew that she really had his safety at heart. That didn't make it any easier for him to accept that he would not be able to join the Order for another year at least. He wanted to be out there, fighting the Death Eaters with the other members.

He sat, staring at the vial filled with a silvery substance that was something between liquid and gas. It had been given to him by Albus Dumbledore with the words, "Come to my office and view this memory in my Pensieve when you are ready to discover the truth." The words hadn't made much sense to him when he'd been given the vial a few days ago, and they didn't mean much more now.

Eyeing the vial, Fred whispered, "What are you up to, Professor?" He knew that something in this memory contained a lesson he needed to learn, and after several days of contemplation and curiosity, he thought he might finally be ready to find out what it was.

Standing up, he picked up his wand from the bedside table and pocketed the siphoned memories. He stepped into the turn that would allow him to Apparate to Hogsmeade. He knew from many years of listening to Hermione Granger that Apparition into Hogwarts was impossible.

Fred made it through the village, up the path to the school, and up to the castle's front doors. Pushing them open, he strode into the Entrance Hall. He hurried up the Grand Staircase, taking a shortcut through a portrait he'd learned from the Marauders Map, and finally down the hallway to the gargoyle at the entrance of Dumbledore's study. It was common knowledge that Dumbledore used the names of his favourite sweets as his password to access his office. Fred thought about what would be the most likely option for him to use as he pulled out the vial to examine it once again. Written on the small paper label were the words, "Pumpkin Pastie". He'd noticed them earlier, but it hadn't made sense until he was standing in front of this door.

"That's it," Fred said to himself. Turning to the stone statue in front of the door, he said, "Pumpkin Pastie."

The statue moved aside, revealing the moving spiral staircase that led up to the study. Fred hurried through the doorway and then allowed the stairs to carry him up. Much to his surprise, the office was empty. He supposed Dumbledore must be somewhere doing something for the Order… which was what this was all about.

Fred stared around the room, and his eyes lighted on a small cabinet. Harry had mentioned that was where the Pensieve was. Walking over, he opened it, revealing the small stone basin that was the Pensieve. Unstopping the vial, he poured the silvery liquid into the basin. Leaning down, he found himself falling into the memory he'd been given.

Landing hard, he looked around to try and find out where on earth he was. It was a small kitchen, with several chairs surrounding a long table. At the moment, only four were occupied. Two young men sat in two of the seats. An older man took another, and Professor Dumbledore sat in the chair Fred had landed beside. An older woman was bustling around preparing a meal with the aid of a younger woman.

"I thank you again for allowing us to hold the meetings here, Ignatius, Johanna."

"We must do our part to defeat You-Know-Who," the older man, Ignatius, said.

The older woman, Johanna, picked up her wand from the nearby counter and waved it, causing a large cauldron filled with stew to float over to the table. The younger woman carried a couple of loaves of bread over.

"Fabian, Gideon, cutlery, please! Everyone is going to be here soon!" Johanna commanded. Fred finally realised who these people were. These were his grandparents and uncles, all of whom had died when he was a child. That meant that the young woman was his mother!

Fabian and Gideon, the two young men, rose and opened a couple of drawers and took out the requested items. Just as they placed them on the table, a knock sounded from the front door.

"I've got it, Mum," Molly said. She walked out of the room, and a moment later, Fred heard a door open and several voices in greeting. Molly led three people that Fred didn't recognise into the room. They chose chairs and sat down. A few minutes of this ensued, with many more people arriving and being shown to the kitchen by Molly. Eventually, the arrivals ceased, and it appeared that everyone was present.

"Molly, do you want me to go and check on the boys?" Johanna asked her daughter as the last person sat down, and she began to serve food to everyone.

"I'll do it, Mum; you're busy serving dinner," Molly answered, and quietly left the room.

Professor Dumbledore addressed the gathered people. They had been chatting quietly among themselves, but they fell silent as he spoke. "I'm glad that almost all of us have made it to this meeting safely. A few, alas, have fallen to the dark forces we are trying to repel. Let us have a moment of silence for them."

For a few seconds, nobody spoke. Then Dumbledore resumed, "We remain, and it is up to us to bring an end to You-Know-Who."

One of the women said, "There are two kinds of people in this world; people who do evil stuff, and people who see evil stuff being done and don't do anything to try and stop it. I'm glad we're not either."

"Hear, hear!" exclaimed one of the wizards present. "Well said, Emmeline!"

The woman grinned at him. "Moreover, I think we need some kind of a name. What do you think, Edgar?"

"Of course," he laughed. "How about the Wizard Warriors?"

"That's awfully sexist!" another witch said. "I thought of the Hogwarts Hundred, maybe?"

"But there aren't a hundred of us, are there, Marlene?" a wizard with a moustache reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. "In a few years we might. There are plenty of older students who I know would be eager to join. I know Remus Lupin and Sirius Black would jump at it."

"I like The All-Bloods, shows what we're about, don't it?"

"A bit too obvious, I think, Benjy," Emmeline said. "Dumbledore's Legion, perhaps?"

An older man, with greying hair under a fez, spoke up. "I like where that's going, Emmeline. How about the Order of the Phoenix? After your wonderful bird and Patronus, of course, Albus."

Fred stood, observing the back and forth between these witches and wizards, becoming increasingly aware that many of them would be dead within a few years. It was quite a sobering reality. He was beginning to understand why Dumbledore had wanted him to see this memory.

The group was silent for a moment, thinking over the suggestion. Fred knew that this was the ultimate name that they would choose. Everyone seemed to be weighing its merits.

Finally, Marlene said, "I like it. The Order of the Phoenix. It has a certain something about it, hasn't it?"

There was general assent among those present. Dumbledore nodded. "It's settled, then. The Order of the Phoenix."

The man who had made the suggestion laughed. "Didn't think it'd be such a popular choice."

"It's brilliant, Doge," Edgar told him. The man smiled modestly.

The talk slowly reverted to the merits of the meal Johanna and Molly had made.

"Watch your plates, everybody! With Disappearing Dedalus here, we could lose them all!" Benjy chortled through a gulp of pumpkin juice

"You needn't worry, Benjy — Muriel Prewett fixed me," Dedalus hastened to reassure him. "I haven't disappeared anything since she straightened me out."

"Auntie Muriel would straighten anybody out," chipped in Fabian. "I tell you, when she said the meetings should be here, Gideon and I knew better than to argue."

An older witch that Fred recognised as Professor McGonagall spoke, "May I have a private word, please Albus?"

"Is it about the, ah, gift, from Nicolas?" Dumbledore asked.

McGonagall nodded. "He told me nothing about why it was needed, perhaps you will?"

Fred had seen all he needed to see. As they walked over to the next room, he pulled his head out of the Pensieve. Dumbledore's reason for giving him the memory to view had become clear. He was nowhere near experienced enough to join the Order.

So many of those people had died. It was rather depressing, seeing them all happy and laughing, knowing that within a few years they would be gone— some of them in extremely gruesome ways. He'd heard stories of the murder of the Bones family, and of how they'd only found Benjy Fenwick in pieces. His own uncles had died heroes in the service of the Order, and it had devastated his mother.

He understood now, more clearly than he ever had before, why his mother was so overprotective of her children. He couldn't imagine what losing siblings would be like. He hoped he would never have to find out.


End file.
